


Because Of, In Spite Of

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:52:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4277526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While out helping Sherlock on a case Molly gets injured, and Sherlock has some decisions to make about how involved he wants Molly to be in the cases and in his life as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this was an answer to an anonymous prompt I got on Tumblr that said "Sherlock finds out that Molly injured herself when he dragged her to a case and he feels incredibly awful about it and he tries to make it up to her." This first part turned out way more bittersweet than I had thought it would, but I expect it will be fluffy by the end!

Sherlock looked around, quite satisfied at the scene. The potential kidnappers had been caught, the plot to kidnap the infant princess had been foiled and there had been no serious injuries. All in all, it had been a rather stellar victory, if he did say so himself. “Great job on this, Sherlock,” Lestrade said, coming up to him. He clapped him on the shoulder when he got close enough. “Keep this up and the government might just forget that debt you owe.”

“I highly doubt it,” he said, his good mood souring slightly. “But yes, this did go rather well. I couldn’t have done it without Molly’s expert assistance, though. If she hadn’t spotted the older suspect in the crowd shots taken at the last few engagements the royal family had been at this could have had an altogether different outcome.” Then he paused as it registered that she wasn’t with the two of them. “Where is she?”

“Getting looked at by the paramedics, I think,” Lestrade said. “The younger suspect shoved her when he was trying to get away and she landed awkwardly.”

Sherlock immediately felt horrible. He had been so focused on the fact that they had caught the suspects without any major complications that he hadn’t even realized Molly had gotten injured, perhaps gravely. He’d been so caught up in the success that he hadn’t even noticed. “Where is she?”

“Outside, I’d think,” Lestrade replied.

Sherlock brushed past him without another word and strode outside, looking for the ambulance and imagining just how badly she could be hurt. She could have sprained something or broken something…for all he knew she could have fallen down stairs and now have a back injury that would require surgery at a later date. He saw the ambulance and approached it with a sense of trepidation.

“So ice it and stay off of it as much as I can for the next forty-eight hours?” he heard Molly ask someone.

“Crutches will help,” a woman replied. “I’m sure St. Bart’s will let you filch a pair if we don’t have one.”

“Especially when I promise to return them,” she said in response as he made his way around to look at her. Molly was sitting there with her bare foot propped up and a female paramedic was wrapping her ankle for her. Her sock and shoe were sitting beside her on the floor of the ambulance. Molly saw him approach and game him a smile. “It’s nothing, Sherlock. Honest. I just sprained my ankle, that’s all. It’s nothing some rest and ice won’t cure.”

He looked down as his gut unclenched. She wasn’t seriously injured. This was good. He didn’t know what he would have done if she had been very seriously hurt. But this was still his fault. If he hadn’t asked her to accompany him she wouldn’t have been there to be pushed. “I shouldn’t have asked you to come,” he said quietly, not taking his eyes off her ankle.

“Really, Sherlock, it’s all right,” she said as the paramedic finished taping it up. Molly stood, wincing slightly, and instantly Sherlock was by her side, offering support. Molly slid an arm around his waist and looked up at him. “I really have been hurt worse before, I swear.”

“I’ll take care of you,” he said.

“You really don’t need to,” she protested.

“”Please,” he said, nearly pleading. “For at least the next forty-eight hours. I insist.”

“Very well,” she said after a few minutes. “I suppose the first step is getting some crutches so I can move around.”

“Let me check if I have some here,” the paramedic said as she stood up. She moved into the ambulance, looking around for a few minutes before sticking her head back out. “Sorry, Molly. I was wrong. Guess we don’t have a pair on board.”

“It’s all right, Kelly,” she said with a smile. “Like you said, I can filch a pair from the hospital.” She took a step away from Sherlock and then winced again. “This is going to be fun.”

“I’ll carry you,” Sherlock said. Moly looked up at him, a surprised look on her face. “I imagine you’re quite light. Take a hold of your shoe and sock and I’ll carry you to a patrol car, have it take us to Bart’s to get you some crutches and then we’ll go to your home.”

“Are you sure?” Molly asked. “Shouldn’t you stay here?”

“They’ll be fine without me,” he said.

“Take him up on it,” Kelly said. “It’s not every day someone offers to sweep you off your feet and carry you around.”

“All right,” Molly said with a nod a moment later. Kelly handed Molly her shoe and sock and after she had a tight grip on them Sherlock knelt down and then picked her up. She really was quite light, he realized, and after a moment she got settled in his arms, resting her head by his neck. He took her away from the ambulance and towards the grouping of patrol cars. Lestrade had come back outside at that point and he looked over at her with wide eyes. “I’m all right, Greg, honest. It’s just a sprained ankle.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

“We need to get her crutches and then get her home,” Sherlock said. “Have a car take us to St. Bart’s and wait while I get her a pair.”

“Or how about I have the patrol car take her home and then have someone swing by with some crutches for her later?” Lestrade asked. “I’m sure you’re going to be there for a while, Sherlock.”

“Very well,” Sherlock said with a curt nod. “Just make sure we’re not waiting all night for those crutches.”

“You’ll have them as soon as I can get them,” Lestrade said with a slight smirk on his lips. Then he turned to Molly. “Are you sure you want him playing nursemaid?”

“He’s insisting,” she said with a smile. “If he really wants to make sure I’m all right I don’t mind. It will be nice to be taken care of again.”

Again? That seemed odd to Sherlock. But before he could ask Lestrade was directing a uniformed policewoman to take them to Molly’s flat as quickly as possible without sirens, then fetch a pair of crutches from St. Bart’s and take them back to Molly’s flat. The policewoman led the way to the patrol car and Sherlock gently laid Molly out in the back, insisting she stretch out, while he got in the passenger seat.

They got to her flat quickly, as the police officer asked if Molly would like the lights and sirens on anyway and Molly enthusiastically said yes. Sherlock would glance back at her and see she was looking at the surroundings in awe as they flew by. When they arrived at her building she scrambled out of the back seat and was standing up as well as she could before Sherlock got done telling the police officer exactly where at St. Bart’s to go to to ask for the crutches and exactly which flat to bring them to. He got out and frowned at her, getting a smile in return. “I’m not a complete invalid, Sherlock.”

“I know,” he said. “Still, you shouldn’t exert yourself.”

She reached into her trousers and handed him her house keys. “So you don’t have to pick the lock.”

“That would have been hard with you bundled up in my arms,” he said, grinning just a bit. “But not impossible. But hold onto them for me while I get you upstairs.”

She nodded, and once again he picked her up and waited for her to get comfortable. He didn’t mind carrying her; in fact, it was rather nice having her be this close. He didn’t like admitting it but he’d been looking for all sorts of excuses to be close to her lately. He knew that was a sign of attraction, but it was dangerous to admit it so he chose not to. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the moment while it lasted. He made his way to her building and let himself in with only a minimum amount of awkwardness. The lift was working, thankfully, and so he pushed the button for her floor. “This is nice,” she said after a moment.”

“Being carried all the way to your door?” he asked.

She nodded. “And you wanting to take care of me. It’s been a while since that happened.”

“Tom, I suppose?” he ventured.

She shook her head. “While you were gone, before I started dating Tom, I got a very bad case of pneumonia. I was actually bedridden for four days and was almost hospitalized over it. When Mrs. Hudson found out she came over and nursed me back to health. It was almost like having my mum around.”

The lift doors opened and he stepped inside. “Well, you are quite special to her,” he said, shifting his hold slightly. “You’re special to quite a few of us.”

She snuggled in closer. “I know.” He pressed the button for her floor and then the doors shut. “It isn’t your fault I got hurt, you know. I was just standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. But Greg said I managed to slow him down, and that helped.”

“You helped much more than that,” he said. “You were vital to solving both the murders and foiling the kidnapping attempt. You were as vital as you usually are.”

“I like being a vital part of the team,” she said, smiling up at him.

“It’s more a partnership than a team as of late, since John is spending more time with Mary and Cassandra,” he said. “Which he should, obviously. They are his family and they should be his priority.”

“But you miss him,” she said gently.

“Yes,” he said. “But not as much when you assist me.”

“Then I’ll be glad to help as often as I can,” she said warmly.

He nodded, wanting to say more but electing to stay silent. He cared. He cared far more for her than he ought to, and that could put him in a position he didn’t want to be in, where he would have to risk losing his friendship with Molly if he chose to divulge just how much and in just what way he cared. Thankfully soon enough they got to her floor and he stepped out of the lift, carrying her to her door. She was able to unlock the door for him and so he went inside and carried her all the way into her bedroom. “I’ll get you a glass of milk and something for the pain,” he said. “Then I’ll wait for your crutches while you get some rest.”

“I’d rather you get me some ice when you bring me the milk and pain medication and you stay and talk for a while, if that’s all right,” she said. “I like talking with you, Sherlock.”

“I suppose I could,” he said. “If you really want me to.”

“Good,” she said, giving him a wide smile. “Give me a few moments to change into my pyjamas, all right?”

He nodded. “All right.” He left her bedroom and went to her kitchen. He’d spent enough time in her flat to be familiar with where everything was. He got the milk for her, then went to the loo and got her some medicine for the pain. Then he waited outside her bedroom door for a bit. After what he felt was a decent interval had passed he knocked on her door. “Are you decent?”

“Yes,” she said. He opened the door and saw she had already gotten into bed, but her hair was down around her shoulders and she had on a nightgown. There was a bulge under her quilt and he noticed a pillow was missing from the top of her bed. “Kelly said I should prop it up,” she said when she saw him looking at the bulge.

“Ah,” he said, going around with the milk and the medicine. She took them from him as he realized he’d forgotten the ice. “I’ll be right back. I forgot the ice.”

“Take your time,” she said as she swallowed the pills. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He went back to her kitchen and got an ice pack out from the freezer. She had told him she had homemade ones, just in case, and he’d raised an eyebrow at that but was glad for it now. It would be a lot less messy than a bag full of ice. He went back to her bedroom with it and handed it to her, and she leaned forward and put it on her ankle before settling back into the bed and patting the spot next to her. He moved over and sat down. “Does it hurt less?”

“I’m sure it will be numb soon enough, but having it taped up helps,” she said. “I should probably have it checked out by a proper doctor tomorrow, though, just to be on the safe side.”

“I can go with you, if you want,” he said.

“You don’t have to, Sherlock. I know you said you’d take care of me but I’m sure once I have the crutches I’ll be able to hobble around on my own well enough. If you really want to do something nice, bring me breakfast tomorrow. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, but that way I don’t have to stand and cook. Blueberry muffins and coffee would be perfectly fine.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said. He looked at the bulge under her quilt again and then back at her for a moment before looking down at a random spot on the bed in front of him. “I do feel bad, though. You’re incapacitated for at least two days and that wouldn’t have been the case if I hadn’t asked you to come with me.”

“Please don’t make me stop helping. Please don’t let this stop you from bringing me along on cases,” she said, her eyes wide. She reached over for his hands, grasping them in hers. “Sherlock, I like helping you, especially since John doesn’t help as much anymore. I knew there was a chance I could get hurt but it was a risk I was willing to take.” She squeezed his hands gently. “Please don’t take the cases away from me.”

“I just worry one day you’ll get hurt worse than this,” he said. “I don’t want you to get hurt beyond repair because I care about you quite a bit.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “I know you do. I care about you a lot, too, Sherlock. It’s why I want to help. She started to say more but yawned instead. “I guess now that the excitement’s over I’m more tired than I thought.”

“I’ll let you get some rest,” he said, moving his hands away.

“I know you don’t like the guest bedroom, but if you want to stay here tonight you can use it,” she said tentatively. “It’s got fresh linens on it. And it would make it easier for you to bring me breakfast, at least.”

He nodded. “If you want me to stay I’ll stay here tonight. When your crutches arrive I’ll bring them into the bedroom for you so you don’t have to search for them.”

“Thank you,” she said. After a moment’s hesitation she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “And thank you for offering to take care of me. It means a lot.”

He nodded, knowing there was an expression of surprise on his face. He knew he should say something but he wasn’t quite sure what to say so he stayed silent as he got off her bed. She turned off the light by her bed and when he got to her door he lingered, watching her burrow under her covers more. “Good night, Molly,” he said quietly.

“Good night, Sherlock,” she replied, and with that he turned off the main light in her bedroom and let himself out, thoughts of her and things he wanted to say and things he should have said all swarming in on him. It was going to be a long night, he realized as he made his way out to the sitting room.


	2. Chapter 2

He didn’t sleep well. He kept running through his mind the myriad ways that Molly could have been hurt worse, and around three in the morning he gave up on trying to sleep. He made his way out to her kitchen and made himself some coffee, trying very hard not to wake her up. It would not be the best idea to wake her up when she should be sleeping just because his imagination was being overactive. When the coffee was done he took it to her window seat. That was one thing he had liked about her sitting room as opposed to his own; ever since the case where he had mentioned to John he knew nothing about astronomy and it had had serious repercussion he had made it a point to learn. When he was pretending to be dead he would go someplace where he had an unobstructed view of the sky to see what constellations he could see, and he would feel a bit more peaceful. Molly’s window seat had a decent view of a patch of sky, when it wasn’t cloudy, and he was lucky that he could still see some stars in the sky now.

He sipped the coffee and stared up at the sky. She was very important to him, of that there was no doubt. She ranked very high on the list of things in his life that were important to him, and was certainly in the top five of the people who meant the most to him. Perhaps even in the top three. Then he sighed. If he was going to be truly honest she was tied with John and Mary and their daughter at number one, with Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson a very close second and his family a more distant third. So she was one of the four most important people in all the world to him. He wasn’t quite sure when it had happened, or how, but she was there on that list and in that spot and he sincerely doubted she would be leaving it any time soon.

He wanted to protect her. John had been a soldier, Mary a CIA trained assassin…they could take care of themselves and their daughter just fine. They did not need his protection. And while he knew Molly was tough and strong she was vulnerable. Last night proved that vividly. She could easily get hurt, very easily get killed. And if something worse than a sprained ankle happened next time, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to live with himself.

That left him two options. He could push her away, take the cases away from her and leave her on the sidelines like he had before, or he could train her. He could teach her what he knew, make her stronger and better able to protect herself. As much as he wanted to do the former he knew that she would want him to do the latter, and to be honest if he did the latter then perhaps he would not worry so much. If she was better able to take care of herself it could only be a good thing.

 _Yes, but then she won’t need you,_ the tiny, ugly voice in his head said, the one that popped up when he thought about her, any time he considered his relationship with her. The one that always convinced him he wasn’t worthy of her, that he didn’t deserve her. That she deserved better than him, a former addict with a tendency to place the lives of those he cared for at risk, who didn’t think about anyone other than himself half the time and when he did it was only for reasons that would benefit him later. _If she can take care of herself she’ll have no need for the great Sherlock Holmes._

He shut his eyes. “Stop…” he said quietly.

“Sherlock?” he heard Molly ask quietly. His eyes flew open and he turned to see her standing near the edge of her sitting room, leaning on the crutches. “I thought I heard you in the kitchen, and I smelled coffee, and I couldn’t sleep.”

“I apologize for being loud,” he said.

“You weren’t. I’m just used to it being dead quiet here.” She moved forward on the crutches, and he realized she wasn’t wearing a dressing gown over her pyjamas. She caught him staring and smiled. “I thought my dressing gown might tangle with the crutches.”

“Ah,” he said.

“Is there enough room on the seat for me?” she asked.

He nodded and moved over more, and she hobbled over to the window seat and sat down, leaning the crutches against the wall. “I don’t get as nice a view as you do of the sky from here,” she said, looking out the window. 

“We could trade positions,” he said.

“We don’t have to,” she said. She was quiet for a moment. “Were you having a discussion in your head?”

“Why do you ask?” he asked with a frown.

“You said stop,” she said. “I thought it was to me but your eyes were closed.”

He looked away from the sky and towards her. “I was trying to ignore a voice in my head I hear sometimes, that says the worst of things,” he said after a moment.

“The one that says you aren’t good enough?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. His eyes widened in surprise. “I have that one in my head. It used to be very loud and spoke all the time. It still pops up sometimes.”

“I hate it,” he said. “I’ve heard it ever since I was a child, how I don’t deserve friends, how I don’t deserve to have people care for me, how no one needs me.”

Molly got a sympathetic look on her face and moved closer to him. He watched her, setting his coffee on the windowsill. “You deserve friends, Sherlock,” she said. “You deserve to have people who care for you. And people do need you. And not just people who you solve cases for, not just Scotland Yard. John and Mary and Cassandra need you. Mrs. Hudson needs you. Greg needs you.” She looked down and then reached over for his hand. “I need you too.”

He looked at their joined hands. “But if I teach you to take care of yourself, to keep what happened last night from happening again, you won’t need me. You’ll move on, away from me. You’ll find someone…better. Better suited for you. A better fit.”

“I don’t want someone better,” she said softly. He looked up and saw she was looking at him. “Sherlock…I care about you, so much. More than I probably should. You’re a friend, you’re one of my closest friends. But I want more than that. I don’t care if there’s someone else out there who’s a better fit for me, who will treat me exactly the way everyone thinks I should be treated and will worship the ground I walk on. I want _you_. I’ve wanted you for so long…” Then she sighed. “I don’t know how to say it. There’s just so much to say and—”

He moved closer, closing the gap between them and pressing his lips against hers, kissing her tenderly. She was surprised but then she kissed him back, moving her hands to his face as he brought hers to her waist, the kiss becoming more passionate as she opened up her mouth to him. It seemed as though the words they’d never managed to say, the thoughts that had run through both their heads, came out in this perfect kiss. They continued until he had to pull away to catch his breath. “Molly?” he asked quietly, staying close to her.

“Yes?” she asked, looking at him with a smile on her face.

“I think we should have done that some time ago,” he said, a smile forming on his own face.

“Yes, we probably should have,” she said with a soft laugh. “But maybe things had to happen exactly how they did for us to realize just what we mean to each other.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed. He ran a hand along her waist. “Would you like me to get you some coffee and we can move somewhere more comfortable and talk?”

“After I get another kiss,” she said before closing the gap between them and kissing him again. He responded in kind, pleased that she wanted this change in their relationship and that she needed him as much as he needed her. It had been unexpected but decidedly welcome, and he hoped that it led to a better future for them both.


End file.
